


Going, Going, Gone

by Fuckedupbabe



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blood, Gen, Self-Harm, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-01
Updated: 2014-10-29
Packaged: 2018-02-19 10:51:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2385692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fuckedupbabe/pseuds/Fuckedupbabe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reader happens to slip up with their self-harm, causing them to go back down into a spiral of depression and self-loathing. They try to hide it from the boys, but will their efforts actually work?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning of the End

_Chapter 1_   
The Beginning of The End

I sat on the bathroom toilet, blade in hand, and tears running down my face. I couldn’t believe that I was about to do this. I haven’t self-harmed in any way for over 5 months. I stopped once I met the boys. I didn’t want them to know, so I stopped. And, admittedly, they did make me feel better. The urge was always there, but they made me feel at least a little bit better. Today, however, I just snapped.

I had nothing to do, so I was laying down on my bed, staring at my ceiling, when my brain started running wild, bringing back terrible memories, thinking terrible thoughts. I couldn't take it anymore. I walked over to my bookshelf, found the book in which I kept my hidden blade, ran to the bathroom, and, well, there I was.

I sat for minutes on end, contemplating, thinking about all of the pros and cons. "Should I really do this? Is this really necessary?" As I pressed the blade into my skin, embracing the sting, I realized that it really was necessary. Blood automatically started pooling out, drip by drip. My arm was stinging, burning almost. I looked at the blood intently. I was hypnotized. I smiled a small, cynical smile. I knew I was twisted when it came to hurting myself.

I brought the blade down again, and did the same thing, again and again and again, until my whole arm, bicep and forearm, was covered with blood and cuts. It felt glorious. All of the thoughts stopped. The voices went away. That itch in my arm was finally scratched. And, in that moment, I couldn't have felt any better.

I watched the blood drip to the floor, and I began crying. As much as I enjoyed it, I knew that cutting was wrong. I felt like a freak. The tears kept falling down my face. However, I didn't have to much time to let my tears fall to the ground, because, about ten seconds later, I heard the door to the front of the bunker open, and the boys walked in. I wiped the blood off of the floor, and cleaned up my arm as quickly as I could, putting my thin jacket back on, over my tank top. Sam knocked on the door, "Ember, you there?"

"Yeah," I replied. I cursed myself for having such a shaky, stuffy voice. Over the past 5 months, the boys got to know me very well, and vice-versa, so I knew that Sam could tell that something was wrong.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, Sam, fine." I tried to keep it short and to the point.

He asked me to open the door, but I just shooed him away. After several times, I began ignoring him, and panic grew in his voice. As much as he begged me to open the door, I just couldn't. I couldn't let him see me like this. I resumed cleaning up and bandaged my arm. Just as I pulled the sleeve to my jacket down, Sam kicked the door in. He looked at me, relief written all over his face. He obviously hasn’t seen my arm, thankfully.

Dean must have heard the commotion because he came running to the bathroom. "Jesus, I thought there was a demon in here," Dean said, gun in hand. He tucked his gun back into his pants, behind him, and asked, "what happened?"

Sam told Dean about why he had kicked the door down, and Dean asked me if I was alright. I nodded, and he replied with, "alright. Well, I've got to work on the Impala. She's sounding a bit rough, so I'm gonna go patch her up." And with that, he walked off.

As soon as Dean stepped foot outside, Sam began speaking. "You started to scare me. Why didn’t you answer? You could’ve just opened the door."

"Sorry," I said with a shaky voice, looking down. I had lost a lot of blood by this point, and began to feel light headed. I started falling, only to be saved from hitting the ground because of Sam. He caught me in his arms and seated me on the toilet seat.

"Em, what’s wrong? You don't seem like yourse—" That’s when he saw the blood quickly seeping through the jacket. I must have cut a bit too deep, this time. The blood went through both the bandage and the jacket.

“Dean!" Sam began yelling for Dean with a panicked voice, and I kept getting weaker and weaker. After a few cries for Dean, who was intent on finishing working on the Impala, he finally ran in, distressed at the panic in his little brother’s voice.

"What is it?" Just as he finished the question, he looked down at me. “Holy shit. Take off her jacket, Sam. Now!" He began yelling, not knowing what to do.

I begged them not to take it off, and they didn’t understand why. But I was too weak and they pried it off of me. I winced at the pain, but at the same time, I embraced it. The blood was dripping down my arm, onto the floor, and onto Sam.

"Ember," it took him a while to get the words out. "How did this...did you," Dean couldn’t comprehend what was going on, at this point. “Why?"

I just shook my head, too weak to talk, and too distraught at the fact that the boys found out my secret.

"Dean, we have to get her to a hospital." That brought me back and I instantly jumped onto my feet.

"No," I yelled. “You can’t. Don’t you dare. They’ll lock me up! I can’t get put in the psych ward. Not again," I said, feeling weak again, and leaning onto Sam as he held and caressed me.

"Again," Dean asked.

"That’s not the point," Sam protested. “The point is that we need to get her help, now."

"Sam, please don't take me to a hospital. Please." The look on my face must have been enough to make them reconsider, because there was a long pause as they were both silently deliberating whether or not they should take me to a hospital.

"Fine," Sam broke the silence. "We’ll have to stop the bleeding as much as we can and bandage her up. We can’t stitch them, there's too many, and they’re too close together." They helped clean me up and bandage my cuts, then took me to my room, where they lay me to bed. Sam crawled in with me, which took me by surprise, and Dean sat at the edge of the bed.

"Em, we have to talk about this, you know that. What you did-"

I cut him off. “I know. It was bad. It was irresponsible. It was stupid," I said, mockingly.

Dean took a breath in through his mouth, as if he was about to speak, but was stopped by Sam's words.

"She's lost a lot of blood, Dean. We should just let her sleep. I’ll keep an eye on her."

Dean pulled up a chair next to my bed and said, “I’ll do the same."

It took me a while, but with the boys watching over me, making me feel safe, I eventually fell asleep.


	2. After the Fact

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader wakes up the next morning to a very worried Sam and Dean.

Chapter 2  
After the Fact

I woke up the next morning, wrapped up in Sam's arms. I scooted closer to him, loving the comfort of those strong, safe arms being around me. Just as I was about to fall back asleep, Dean woke up, and awoke the both of us. "Hey, lovebirds, time to get up." I opened my eyes and looked up at Dean. His eyes were tired, full of pain and sympathy. He obviously didn't get much sleep, seeing as he was awake, worrying about me all night. I couldn't help but feel guilty about that. I sat up and looked to Sam. He also looked exhausted. The guilt kept building inside of me. I couldn't handle it anymore, so I looked down, fiddling with my fingers.

"What's wrong," Sam asked.

"Nothing. I'm fine," I said, flashing a fake smile.

He sighed and said, "last time you said that, you ended up nearly killing yourself."

"That wasn't the point," I yelled back. "The point was..." I trailed off, not wanting to talk about it anymore. I still couldn't look at either of them.

"Ember," Dean began. "What did you mean when you said you couldn't get sent to a psych ward...again?"

There was a long pause before I began explaining. "Before I met you two, I was severely depressed. It got bad. Real bad. I didn't see a point in doing anything. I hardly even got out of bed. After my third attempt to...take my life, my friends decided that it would be smart to call the police, since I didn't have any parents to do that." My parents had died after a mugging gone wrong in Downtown L.A, and Sam and Dean knew about that. "The police ran into my house, took me to a hospital, where I got bandaged up, and asked me a few questions. They decided that I wasn't 'stable enough' to live on my own, for a while. So, they sent me to a mental hospital. And it was hell." I said all of this without once making eye contact. I felt the tension in the room grow as my words were sinking in.

"Why? Why didn't you tell us?" It was Sam who spoke up to break the silence.

"It wasn't important. I met you guys and I stopped. This," I said, rolling up my sleeves to reveal my bandaged arm, "was a one time thing. Things got bad again for a little while, but it was supposed to stay with me. You were never supposed to see me like that. Ever."

"So how were we supposed to see you, Ember?! Dead on the bathroom floor?" Dean was yelling at this point. He had made it clear that he was angry at me, and I didn't like it.

"No, Dean! I was going to take care of it myself! I'm not a child. I can fend for my own, and if I have to do that again, then I will!" I realized that I was raising my voice, as well. But I meant it. If I had to leave Sam and Dean because they didn't want me around anymore, I would. It wouldn't be easy, though. They were my life, now. They meant so much to me, and it would have torn me apart to leave them. But if they wanted me gone, I would have disappeared in a heartbeat.

Dean looked distraught. He hadn't expected me to say that last phrase. He took a deep breath and said, "that’s not what I meant, Ember. It's just...I don't want to find your corpse laying around, one day. I don't want to have to worry about coming back here and hoping that you're still alive. But I'm going to have to, now. After this, how could I not? And," he was having trouble constructing a coherent sentence, as if he were nervous about something. As if he knew he was going to say something I didn't like. "I made an appointment for you to see a therapist while you were sleeping. And Sam and I are both going with you to see what's what," he spit out.

"You what?!" I was outraged. This was the last thing I wanted to happen. This was what I was avoiding. "I'm not going, Dean."

"Yes, you are Em. I don't care what you say. What happened last night, it can't happen again. We almost lost you. We've lost too much, and we can't lose you, too. You're family. I don't care how bad you don't want to go. You're going." Dean wouldn't budge on this one, and I knew that. Plus, I was way too tired to fight with him. I remembered everything from last night, and I was still feeling light headed from losing so much blood, so I agreed.

"Fine. Whatever. I'm not happy about it, but I'll go. I'm going to shower first."

"I'll help," Sam said. I knew he was helping strictly on a friendly basis, but I've always had a thing for Sam. Since I met him, I was attracted to him. And I, being so self-conscious, couldn't help but feel embarrassed about what he would think when he saw me bare. But I did need the help. I could barely walk, let alone stand. Sam and Dean had to hold me up, so I accepted his help.

I walked into the bathroom with Sam, locking the door behind us. Dean said he would wait for us outside.

I began unwrapping the bandages on my arm. I was in a great deal of pain, but I didn't really mind. But I could tell that Sam did. He had a look of sympathy on his face. I hated that. I didn't want anybody's sympathy. I was a big girl, and I could handle myself. I just wished that I could have done what I needed and moved on, without the boys finding out.

I stepped into the shower. Allowing my body to get soaked by the warm water. I couldn't move my left arm; the pain soon became unbearable. So Sam helped wash my hair and body. When he got to my arm, he gently poured water on it. I winced. The pain was overbearing. He apologized continuously, feeling terrible at the pain that he was causing me. He gently wiped off the dried blood that was left over, and ran his hands over my cuts. He looked up at me and then back down to my arm, continuing to wash it. When he finished showering me, he helped me get dressed.

"You know, I don't really understand why you did what you did." I sighed as Sam said this. "I mean, you're always so happy. You laugh and joke around, and, I just thought you were okay. You're a hunter, but you always seem so positive. Why? Why would you do this to yourself? Did we do something wrong?"

"Sammy," he allowed me to call him that since we, especially, have gotten so close. "It's not your fault. I swear. Please don't blame yourself. Please." I felt tears stinging at my eyes. I couldn't help it. I felt so guilty. "I've been doing this for years. I started when I was younger. It's okay. It's not that big of a deal even."

"How could you say it's not that big of a deal? You almost...you nearly died Ember."

"I'm sorry," I said, looking down again as the tears began to fall. There was a long pause.

"We'd better go. Dean's probably waiting," I said, breaking the silence. He helped me walk out of the door and into the Impala.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good? Bad? Utterly ridiculous? Feel free to leave me replies!


	3. Help

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean take you to therapy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that it's so short! I hope you still enjoy it

Chapter 3  
Help

I stepped out of the Impala, this time, on my own. I finally regained some of my strength. But Sam and Dean still insisted on helping me walk. They said that I wasn't fully healed yet, and they wanted me to completely regain my strength before I go on my own again. It was nice, being cared for. For once in my life, I was being taken care of. After my parents had died in that mugging, I stayed with my aunt until I was eighteen. She was constantly abusive, and treated her own children as if they were royalty, compared to me. She treated me worse than the dirt she dared not to step foot on. After my eighteenth birthday, I moved out and cut of all connection between us.

I walked down a hall that seemed to go on forever. The farther into the hall I got, the more I felt like turning back. Suddenly, I stopped in my tracks.

"What is it," Dean asked.

"Nothing."

Dean sighed. "Again with the nothing?!" He was getting angry. "It's obviously not nothing, Ember! It's something. Something is wrong, and this time, I won't let you get away with 'nothing!' Now, let's try this again. What, is, wrong?"

"I just, I'm nervous. I don't like talking about my problems. I like dealing with them in my own way."

"Your own way nearly got you killed."

"That wasn't the plan. It only happened that way because I haven't dealt with it in months. I can handle it now. So can we please go back home?"

"Ember," Sam began. "You can't keep hurting yourself. I don't know why you are, and I don't know how it helps, but I know that it's not okay. We need you to give therapy a try."

"I'm not crazy," I blurted out.

"I never said you were." He began rubbing my back. He knew I loved when he did that and that it calmed me down. I took a deep breath and continued walking. I finally got to the right door, room 502, and opened it. It was a waiting room. There were chairs along the back, blue wall. The chairs were a deep red color. The receptionist's desk was to the left, and there was a door leading to the therapists' offices next to the reception room. I walked up to the receptionist as people were giving us funny looks, since Sam and Dean were helping me walk.

We waited for about 10 minutes before a lady with auburn hair called my name. The boys followed me in, and we walked down another hall to her office. When we finally got there, she began.

"Hello, my name is River Aliga. I'm guessing you're Ember," she said, looking at me. I nodded my head. "And who are you two gentlemen?"

"My name is Dean. This is my brother Sam. I'm the one who called to make the appointment. We just wanted to walk in to see what you're all about."

"Well, that's wonderful. You've got some real nice friends Ember," she said with a smile. She seemed so fake. I wanted to get up and punch her in the face. I almost did, too. I started standing up, but I guess Sam saw because he put a hand on my knee."Anyway, let me tell you a little bit about this whole procedure of signing up and how exactly therapy works. There is a doctor-patient confidentiality pact, so whatever you choose to say, stays between us two, unless it puts you, or others, in danger. You can tell me anything you'd like, as this is a judgement free zone. However, if you don't feel comfortable yet, that's okay. We can do something else or talk about something less serious until you warm up to therapy. We do need you to sign this contract and write down three goals of yours that you would like to get out of therapy," she said, handing me a clipboard. I signed my name, wrote three goals that I had no intention of fulfilling, because I had no intention of staying in therapy, and handed the clipboard back to her. She explained a few more things to us, and our hour was up. Sam and Dean thanked her while I walked out quickly, a little bit to quickly. I ended up falling against the wall, from being so lightheaded. I guess I wasn't as strong as I thought I was, yet.

Sam and Dean helped me, and we drove back to the bunker, where I stayed in my room all day, watching on my laptop, not eating, and only sleeping later. At around ten at night, Sam came in. I closed my computer, and he said, "hey, I'm gonna watch over you again, okay?" I nodded, and scooted over so he could sleep next to me again. He engulfed me in his arms and I automatically fell asleep.


	4. Trick or Treat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys go on a hunt, leaving you behind. When you decide what you're going to do for the rest of the day, not everything goes quite as you expect it to.

Chapter 4  
Trick or Treat

I woke up in the middle of the night, in a cold sweat. I was still wrapped up in Sam's arms. I slowly moved out and sat up on the bed, remembering the vivid details of my dream. It involved Sam and Dean, and them turning on me and trying to get rid of me, telling me that they hated me. I felt the bed move, and turned to see Sam sitting beside me.

"Hey, you all right," he asked, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

"Yeah. Fine."

"Can you stop lying please? I want you to be able to talk to me without any problems."

"I just had a nightmare. I'm fine though." The thoughts kept coming back. The nightmare. The cutting. Suicide. Tears began welling in my eyes.

"Hey, you wanna talk about it?"

"Not really."

Dean then walked in shirtless. I must say, it was quite the sight. "Hey, I heard talking. Everything alright?"

"Yeah, I just had a nightmare. I'm fine, you can go back to sleep."

"Alright," he said walking back to his room.

Without saying a word, Sam hugged me. We just stayed like that for a while. Until he released me and lay back down. When I awoke in the morning, neither Sam nor Dean was to be found in my room. I stood up and walked towards the kitchen. Dean was making breakfast, and Sam was on the computer, looking for a new lead.

"Hey, Dean, I think I found one." Then he saw me. "Hey, how'd you sleep?"

"Fine."

"I was just telling Dean, I think I found a lead. Looks like a trickster. People have been reporting strange sightings and have been acting differently lately. You wanna check it out?"

"Yes," I said without hesitation. I needed a job. I needed something to keep my mind occupied.

Dean chuckled before saying, "sorry sweet cheeks, but you're gonna have to sit this one out. I still don't think you're ready to go on a hunt." I rolled my eyes and walked back to my room. I heard Sam and Dean talking about the job, until they came into my room and told me they were leaving. I okayed it, and let them go. A few minutes after they let, I snuck a peak onto Sam’s computer and hotwired a car I tracked them back to an abandoned warehouse. They thought that the trickster lived there. I walked into the warehouse, making sure that they were nowhere in sight.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something move. I turned around, drawing out my knife from my holster, and saw Sam.

"Em? What are you doing here?"

"I thought I could help. I wasn't going to just let you two take the job without me that easy."

"We got this Ember. We don’t need your help. Go back home before you cause us more harm than you usually do." I was taken aback. His mouth slowly curled to form a wicked smile, one that I have never seen on Sam's face before. Seeing that his words have obviously affected me, he continued. "In fact, we were better off without you. When you came into our lives, you made it a nightmare. Especially after what happened a few nights ago. You think I really cared for you? Aww that’s sweet,” he edged on mockingly. “Well, how do I put this gently? I don’t. Never have, never will. Same with Dean. Sorry to break it to you but we really don’t need you here. We just pitied you.” My mouth dropped in awe, and the tears began streaming down my face. "Why are you crying? Does the truth hurt? Isn’t it better that you hear it from us inste-”

That's when I saw a wooden stake go through his heart. I began to sob. My chest hurt and I couldn't breathe. Sam fell to the ground. Behind him was…Sam?

"Em, don't believe that. That's not true. That was the trickster." He came up to me and pulled me into his chest. I couldn't stop crying. It was like my dream all over again, but worse; this one was real. Sam rubbed my back, and I began wheezing. My chest was still in pain, and the tears would not stop flowing. Sam pulled me away and looked me in the eyes. "Listen, please. None of that was true. None of it. He got into my head; said things, things that weren't true. He lied.”

"How do I know that? How do I know that he didn't say your actual thoughts?" He just stayed staring into my eyes. All of a sudden, his lips were pressed against mine. He grabbed me by the hips, pulling me in closer to him. I leaned into him, pressing my lips onto his more passionately.

Dean walked in, saw us, whispered "thatta boy," and walked out, leaving us to our privacy.

Finally, Sam pulled away, leaving me wanting more. He felt that it was about time that we found Dean and got out of this place, though. He went to get Dean, and we all drove back home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is much appreciated. Seriously. Any feedback...at all...whatsoever.


	5. The Million Dollar Question

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You return from the hunt and things unfold from there.

Chapter 5  
The Million Dollar Question

After finally getting back to the bunker, I sat down on the couch in the living room, scrolling through different shows that I could watch online, when Dean stood right next to me, leaning against the wall. He cleared his throat, clearly trying to get my attention. I ignored him. He did it again, only louder this time. I finally closed up my laptop and looked up at him with a smirk on my face. "Can I help you?"

"As a matter of fact, yes, you can. Why the hell were you at the hunt with us? You can barely walk, let alone fight a trickster."

"I can take care of myself. I'm a big girl." He just sighed and hung his head before he decided to walk away. I go up as well, walking to my bedroom and laying down.

Sam walked in with a smile on his face no more than 5 minutes later. "Hey."

"Hey Sam. What's up?"

"Nothing. I'm just, well, happy, I guess."

"Are you, now," I asked with a grin across my face.

"Yeah," he said, sighing. He walked towards my bed and plopped down beside me.

"So, what's the plan for tomorrow? Find any good jobs," I asked him.

"Nah. Dean said he's gonna go out and look for something with Bobby." I knew what Dean was really doing. He was most likely just giving us time alone after what happened earlier today.

"Oh. Cool." There was an awkward silence for a few minutes. Finally, I stood up and walked to the door. "I'm going to put on a movie and make popcorn, want some," I asked, looking at him.

"Sure." I walked back in two minutes later and sat down beside Sam. I flipped on the television and found a movie that I've never heard of. Sam and I just watched in silence, eating our popcorn. When it finally ended, I got up and put the bowl into the kitchen sink.

"So," Dean began, sitting at the kitchen table. "You and Sammy." He had that signature ‘Dean’ smirk plastered on, signifying that he had information.

"What about Sammy and me," I asked, trying to play it off cool.

"I saw you two back at the hunt." I began blushing, and Dean obviously took notice. "No need to blush," he said, grinning eartoear. "It was...cute."

"Shut up," I murmured, and walked away. Sam had left the room and went to shower. I spent the rest of the day watching television and helping Dean look for a reasonable case until, finally, I went to bed. This time, Sam didn't sleep in the same room as I did. I guess he thought I gained my strength enough.

The next morning, I woke up feeling extra weight beside me and an arm wrapped around my waist. I turned around to find that Sam was snuggled beside me. After a moment, he opened his eyes. "What," he asked.

"Nothing. I just, I don't remember you coming in here."

"Oh, yeah. You were asleep. I just kind of got used to sleeping beside somebody, so I came in here. I mean, I wasn't going to cuddle with Dean." He let out a nervous chuckle and I smiled.

I got up and walked around the house, looking for Dean, but he must have already left, seeing as it was already 1:00 P.M. I couldn't believe that we slept so late. Since it was late in the afternoon, we woke up starving. We decided to order Chinese food and scavenger for a good movie that we could find online.

When the food finally arrived, we looked on numerous sites and found that The Boy With the Striped Pajamas was available for download. It was one of my favorite movies. We sat there, eating our food and watching the movie. When it finally ended, I looked over at Sam. He had tears welling up in his eyes, but he was trying to play it off cool. Of course, I wouldn't let him get away with that. "Aww, Sammy. Did that movie hit home?"

"Shut up," he said, trying not to smile, but failing miserably. His grin could very well have been mistaken for the Cheshire Cat’s grin.

I got up and put away the rest of the food. Sam walked into the kitchen while I was finishing up with the dishes and sat on the counter, beside the sink. That's when Dean walked in.

"Hey, guys, what've you been up to," he asked.

"Just finished watching a movie," I replied. Sam hopped off the counter, leaving Dean and I alone, and he walked off to his room.

"You really like him, don't you," Dean asked me. I've always hated ‘chick flick moments,’ as Dean would say, so I tried to play it off like it was nothing.

"Eh. It's...whatever."

"Oh, don't give me that crap. You like him. You like him, and you know it." He began mocking me.

"Whatever." I rolled my eyes and began walking away, but Dean called me back.

"Come here," he started. He seemed to instantaneously become serious, so I decided to walk back towards him. "How...how are you, feeling lately,” he asked with a hushed tone.

"Fine, thanks," I said with a cheery smile.

"Ember, you know what I mean. How do you really feel? You know you can tell me. It's me. We've known each other for a while, now."

"I feel fine, Dean. Really." It was partially true. Sam made me happier, but depression really takes the life out of you. Especially while hunting. Especially after what that trickster said.

"Alright. If you say so." And with that, I walked off to my room. Sam was there. He was sitting on my bed, looking down at his hands as if he didn’t know what else to do.

"Hey, what's wrong Sammy?"

"I just, I'm worried about you. How have you been these past two days?"

"Why does everybody keep asking me that? I'm fine for Christ's sake. Just stop treating me like a child."

"I'm sorry Ember. I didn't mean to...I'm just scared, that's all."

"Scared? What for? There's nothing to be scared of," I assured him.

"But there is. I can't lose you, Ember. I can't lose you, too."

I wanted to tell him that he wouldn't. I wanted to assure him that everything would be okay. But, for some reason, my gut said otherwise. Instead, I just stood there, like an idiot, looking at the floor, feeling Sam staring at me, looking for some sort of reassurance.

Just as he was going to say something more, I fell to the floor, clasping my hands around my stomach while yelling out in pain. All I felt at that moment was pain, searing hot pain, unlike any other pain I've felt before. It felt like my side was going to burst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all feedback is welcome, and highly encouraged. Please?

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to let me know what you think. Any and all feedback is appreciated!


End file.
